


Still Here

by GalaxyGazing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Twincest, Twins, Weasleycest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 14:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1691138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyGazing/pseuds/GalaxyGazing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fred doesn't die at the last battle for Hogwarts, but George is shaken by his brother's near brush with death. Fred does all he can to reassure his twin that he is not going anywhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Here

“ _Fred_.”

The name is barely there, drowned in a thick tone of misery and distraught. At its core, it’s a breathy, high-pitched whimper on the verge of tears, but Fred recognizes it as his name and cups his twin’s face between his hands,  
  
“I know. _I know, I know, I know_ ,” He tries to soothe his twin, kissing his forehead first and then his lips. It’s the height of midnight and the house is quiet with loss. Voldemort had just been defeated and many had paid to defend the good in this world with their lives. Fred had come tremendously close to being one of those lost—while George witnessed. But, as fate would have it, both twins scraped away with their lives.

When the slow kiss breaks, George whines a distressed sound which reveals he is not done living that terrifying moment of almost losing his other half. The tears start to roll and he’s trembling uncontrollably, slipping away to somewhere where it is harder for Fred to reach him.  
  
“George. _Georgie,”_  Fred tries again, using a gentle nickname name that was reserved exclusively for his use. He kisses the corner of George’s mouth which is stretched into a sobbing frown, then presses his lips up under his chin. The kisses are punctuated with definite noise; it’s the soft, wet click of lips on flesh that he hopes will help to break through to the place George has retreated to in his mind.

“You almost—“ George finally manages, the words quavering with the tremors of his body. It has clearly taken all of his effort to verbalize just those two words, but Fred always had the incredible ability to know how George’s sentences would end (just like George could read him). No more needed to be said than that, they both knew what was plaguing him.

Fred leans over George, one elbow on either side of him, and lowers their naked chests together so they could meet. The weight and solidity of their bodies against each other provided protection and realness while their heartbeats provided comfort.

“I know,” Fred says again, because he _really_ does. He knows better than George how lucky he was to escape with his life, “But I’m here, George. I’m really here.”  
  
George lets out another shuddering sob with only a half-hearted attempt to keep quiet for the sake of the other sleeping residents in the house. Fred thumbs away the tears that roll back towards the pillow, fingers still rooted in his brother’s hair,  
  
“I’m not going anywhere,” He kisses George's mouth again, “I promise.”  
  
George folds his arms around Fred’s shoulders and buries his damp face into the crook of his neck. Fred lets him weep quietly, patient and sympathetic to all the adrenaline and nerves that were working their way out of his system.

They remain like this for a while until Fred pulls back just a few inches to see how his twin was faring. Surprisingly, George had regained enough fire to initiate the kiss, pressing his lips to Fred’s hard and needy. Neither have time to breathe from the shock of it and both inhale through their noses in two, long hisses. Their teeth click until they find their rhythm and manage to taste their way into each other.

George draws in a shuddering breath, feeling the need to sob again and Fred now buries himself in George’s shoulder, kissing at the soft skin in the best ways he think will calm him down,

“Not gonna leave you,” he whispers, punctuating each word with a kiss, “Georgie,” he sighs breathlessly, kissing up his neck until he gets to the jawline, “I’m right here.”

George was clearly more shaken than Fred had been by the terrible events of the eve prior. Who could blame him? They were brothers. Hell, twins. They were more than twins. Fred would be crying just as hard if it had been the other way around. He supposed dying was easy, but living only to suffer the loss of someone you adored more than life itself must be torture. George had to prepare himself for that today and Fred deeply regretted that.

George’s eyes are closed, orange eyelashes clumped together with tears, pressed tightly against pale, freckled skin. Fred shifts his hand upward slightly to run it over George’s eyebrow, to which George responds by opening his eyes to meet his gaze. Fred presses  their foreheads together so they are sharing the same air, feeling each other’s movements, realizing each other’s tangibility,

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Fred breathes, all air, no voice. Though nearly dying was out of his control, he still felt the need to apologize for the way it affected the other half of him, “But I’m right here,” the last words are barely audible, but George is close enough to take them in. The phrase couldn’t be repeated enough because that it is exactly what George was still in awe of—Fred was almost _not_ here with him, nor would he have ever been again. Right now, it is almost unbelievable to feel his warm body moving against him.

George still couldn’t manage to stop the tears, but his whimpering did quiet and his trembling subsided. He nods silently against Fred’s forehead, sniffling wetly and carding his fingers through his brother’s hair, just to feel it.

“Love you,” Fred claims his mouth, “Love you too much to leave.”

He gives his brother a gentle smile and George, though he didn’t yet have the strength to return it, presses his lips into a thin line and nods his understanding.

Fred gently rolls his weight off of him until they are aligned side by side, chest to chest on the mattress. George curls into him and Fred presses his lips to the top of George’s head, breathing in the scent of him and holding him tight around the waist.

“I’m here, Georgie,” Fred whispers, and when George awakes the next day, he is relieved to find that is still true.

 

-

The End


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